


A Little Vampire Came to Say Hello

by Queenie18



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Amnesia Alec Lightwood, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Future Fic, High Warlock of Alicante Magnus Bane, Immortal Alec Lightwood, Immortal Magnus Bane, M/M, Major Injury, Memory Loss, Post Character Death, Post canon, Tags May Change, Torture, Vampire Alec Lightwood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:01:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24323218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenie18/pseuds/Queenie18
Summary: After a nasty fight between Alec and Magnus, his husband goes to talk to escaped convict Camille Belcourt in order to get her to surrender to the Clave.Only she doesn’t want Magnus, she wants Alec.—Taking place over many years, it’s a story about memory loss, torture, love and an eventually happy ending.
Relationships: Camille Belcourt & Alec Lightwood, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 31
Kudos: 68





	1. Chapter 1

“For fuck’s sake, Magnus!” Alec snarled. “You can’t do this.”

His husband’s jaw clenched, his usual warm eyes, cold. Alec wanted to scream in frustration, wanted to make Magnus see just what this would do to him, to them. Instead, he just pulled his hair and resisted the urge to slam his fist into the wall.

Magnus frowned. “I can do what I want, Alec.”

Alec. Alec, not Alexander.

Shit.

“She hurt you.” Alec pleaded, his voice going softer, desperate to hold Magnus in his arms and keep him there, keep him safe. “I don’t want her to hurt you again.”

Camille. There were many, many words Alec wanted to scream about her - a lot of them not pleasant. The vampire was poison wrapped under a pretty face and sharp claws. She had hurt Magnus so badly, that sometimes her influence was like a stain on Magnus’ soul, when his vulnerability was shown in the small gestures that shouldn’t have been a surprise to him.

“She won’t.” Magnus said. “I’m not some weak mundane, Alec.”

Alec rubbed his eyes with a deep sigh. Every time, he thought they were moving past this old argument. He had done everything to fix it. He had made a deal, lost Magnus and now they were married.

But it felt like they were taking two steps backwards.

“Fine.” Alec shouted and Magnus flinched with a pinched lip. “You want to go to that woman? Then fine, go. I won’t coddle you.”

He turned his back to face Alicante. He wasn’t sure how it happened but Camille had escaped and was now on the run from the Clave. And she had sent a message earlier today, demanding to see Magnus alone and she would surrender. Alec didn’t trust it, or her. But Magnus was desperate to prove he was still capable, still strong.

Alec couldn’t stop him.

“Alexander, I...” Magnus started but Alec refused to look back.

“Go, Magnus.”

Alec heard his husband release a breath and then there was the thrum of a portal and he was gone. He wanted to cry, to scream, to punch something. Everything had been so good. They had a honeymoon, they were finally leading the Shadow World to something better.

And now this?

“Fucking hell.” Alec swore and slammed his fist into the wall.

“Well, well. Someone isn’t happy.”

Alec’s blood turned cold as a low voice drawled behind him. He turned, fingers already aching for his blade when he saw Camille Belcourt there in front of him.

She was grinning, her fangs glinting in the low light and she looked healthy, clean - dressed in a red, low cut dress. Her hair was curled into an elaborate bun and her hands rested calmly against her dress. And she was standing in their home, their safe place.

Magnus.

“Where is he?” Alec said, pointing a finger at her. “What did you do?”

Camille only swooped closer to him, like a viper. “Nothing. He’s waiting for me, even if he doesn’t know I won’t show.”

Alec furrowed his brows and tried to sidestep to get his seraph blade that was resting on the kitchen counter. 

“Why?”

Camille was faster than him and within a blink of an eye, she was standing in front of him, her small, pale hands over his throat. They were loose enough not to hurt, but strong enough to remind him of how useless it would be to fight without weapons.

Where are you Magnus?

“See, little Nephilim.” Camille cooed as she tightened her grip. “Imagine how I felt when I was finally free to hear that Magnus Bane was married?”

“Magnus Lightwood-Bane.” Alec corrected with a growl.

Camille laughed. “Oh, you’re adorable. But stupid. Because you’re not going to see Magnus again.”

Alec groaned. “He’s my husband.”

“Not for much longer.” She replied with a bored drawl.

Alec blinked then struggled as he felt an aching on his neck, likely forming bruises. His mind was occupied with Magnus, Magnus, Magnus.

He knew he was going to die. And all he wanted was his husband, arguments be damned. He never thought it would end like this. He thought they would have years.

“I’m going to kill you, sweetie.” She promised, her nail digging into his jugular vein. “But I have to make you perfect first.”

Alec almost asked before she adjusted her grip so his back was slammed into the wall, one hand covering his neck and another reaching to grab something.

The bottle was clear and held a pale green liquid, gloopy like sap. Camille’s grin widened as she pushed the bottle between his lips. 

“Drink it, little Nephilim.” She urged, holding the cold glass against his stubborn lips. “Drink now.”

Alec didn’t want to. But her grip tightened to the point where he gasped for breath and she forced it down his throat, the liquid burning his throat. 

It was scorching and painful, aching as he swallowed to rid himself of the sour taste. Camille let go of him as he clawed at his neck.

“There.” She said. “All better.”

Suddenly there was a woozy feeling, a sort of lightheadedness as he blinked rapidly to her swarming form. His vision blurred as he gasped.

“Don’t panic.”

Alec nodded slowly and felt his body relax. He wanted to obey her, he realised. He wanted to listen to her voice, it was like a lullaby. He wanted to curl up into her and do her bidding.

Who was he?

Where is he?

“Just calm, just like that.” A voice murmured, and he loved it. “Relax against me.”

He smiled dopily and dropped his head on a cold neck. It was perfect.

“I’m going to make you feel so good, sweetie. You’ll be happy with me.”

She’s going to make him feel so good. He’ll be happy with her. 

She hummed under her breath and then there was a sharp pain in his neck. And then the world was euphoric. It was bright, magical colours and intense lust. There was passion, want and love. There was no pain.

There was just this endless happiness.

“Come on.” The voice said again as the pain faded away amongst those pretty colours. “Drink up, sweetie.”

He opened his mouth obediently. There was a thick syrup, cold and yet delicious as he greedily slurped at it, hands grabbing the pale wrist. Where there was colour, there was now an endless oblivion.

Darkness. 

He slumped into the body as his head felt heavy.

“Well done.” The voice encouraged, stroking his hair. “You did so good.”

He did so good. He was so happy.

“Sleep now.”

Alec grinned and obeyed, letting himself slip away.

There was a sharp snap and his head twisted at his neck, an agony shooting through his spine as he wanted to scream. Pain, pain, pain. His head dropped to his shoulder unnaturally and he wanted to cry so badly. It hurt so much.

Sleep. She wanted him to sleep.

That pain was dragging him down. It hurt and the darkness didn’t.

He embraced the darkness and fell asleep.

  
—

  
He was gasping, clawing at the dirt above him. His hands shook as the night sky glimmered with stars. It was so breathtakingly beautiful.

He groaned when a sweet smell filled his nose.

_Hungry, hungry, hungry._

_Feed, feed, feed._

He charged toward it, desperate and yearning to take that sweetness and drown in it. He tore at the covering and swallowed large breaths against it. He tossed it aside when it was finished and grabbed for the next one, the euphoric feeling never disappearing.

He just swallowed, a stickiness dripping down his body.

He was gasping at it like it was air. With each convulsion of his throat his head cleared. The swarming noise, irritating above him sounded distant. He was drenched, his throat eager to take more, to swallow more. He had never been so hungry.

The voices became louder. They spoke softly, like they were whispering. And there was no heartbeat, no sound in their bodies.

He blinked slowly and dropped the blood bag.

Blood.

Heartbeat.

“What-” He whispered and reached out for something. “What is happening?”

A cold hand took his. It was soft and smooth, and their fingers slotted perfectly amongst his. His hand was burnt with a red mark, carved in his skin like a tattoo. It looked painful against the porcelain of the other hand. He looked up with a frown to see a pretty woman. Camille, his head said. Camille, she’s safe, she’s yours.

Camille’s finger rubbed over his hand, the thumb continuously soothing him as he waited for her. That’s all he knew. He knew he had to wait for her, he had to listen to her. Somehow he knew she would protect him.

Sire, his mind said.

“Who are you?” She said at last.

He frowned. Who was he? It was like his life was a dream, unreachable. He wanted to grab at it, but found he couldn’t. There was just emptiness.

He looked at Camille with a sad look. “I don’t know.”

She smiled.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the fifteen years he could remember, Camille had always been a beautiful dancer. She moved her hips like flowing water, and every curve of her neck was sensual. Alex was definitely not attracted to her, but he could admire her. Camille Belcourt was like lust personified, and she used it to her advantage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: There is mentions of torture

**15 Years Later...**

“Come on.” Camille cooed from where she sat by the bar. “Stop being boring.”

Alex frowned as a very familiar woozy feeling washed over him. Over the years, since his death, he had called it the ‘ _Camille feeling_ ’. It wasn’t necessarily bad, per say, but it was overwhelming, and at times euphoric. And he really didn’t want to start associating euphoric with his closest friend.

“I’m not boring.” Alex grumbled but obeyed as he stood. “You owe me.”

Camille smiled her little shark’s grin. “Oh, no I don’t Allie. I owe you nothing.”

Alex nodded. “You owe me nothing.”

She leant forward and kissed him on the cheek. The soft feeling of her cold lips was a comforting gesture, like a warm hug or a summer’s day. He couldn’t remember the sun, just like he couldn’t remember his life before Camille. But he knew it was scary, disappointing and mortal.

Unlike him.

Camille held out a polished hand, adorned with rings and Alex took it with a small smile. She giggled, and pulled him through the crowds toward the dance floor. They were right in the center, so that sweaty, hot, mortal bodies pressed against him. There were wandering hands, and small presses as Camille pulled Alex closer to wrap her arms around his neck.

In the fifteen years he could remember, Camille had always been a beautiful dancer. She moved her hips like flowing water, and every curve of her neck was sensual. Alex was definitely not attracted to her, but he could admire her. Camille Belcourt was like lust personified, and she used it to her advantage.

She smiled as he leant closer to him, her hips twirling in a small movements. Her lips grazed his ears. “Seen anyone tonight?”

Alex hummed a vague answer. It was always difficult. Never, in his life had he wanted someone else. There was some instinctive part of him that told him _it was wrong, it was unfaithful._ And though sometimes he craved a warm body to heat the immortal chill inside of him - he never took that urge.

Camille rolled her eyes. _“Borrring.”_

“Shush.” Alex murmured in return. “Besides, I’ve seen someone perfect for you.”

She laughed her delighted giggle and tilted her head as if to say, _who?_

Alex tugged her waist till she was pressed against him from chest below and dragged his eyes lazily to the man in the corner. This was their game. Find a guy, persuade him into her bed and sneak him out the next day. Repeat and repeat.

Camille followed his gaze and smiled widely in pleasure. He was Asian, with dark hair and a willowy body. He might have been Alex’s type too, maybe, if it weren’t for the lack of jewellery. He always had a thing for men who embraced gender fluidity.

“Well done, Allie.” Camille said when she drew back. “He’s perfect.”

There was a low thrum in his body and he sank into it, smiling dopily. The tingly feeling and then the explosion of sweet euphoria spread around him and he tilted his head back, sighing as though on drugs.

Camille watched him with a pleased glint in her eyes and sashayed off, her hips swaying and necklaces clanging together.

Alex stayed there, curving his body to the heavy beat, feeling every inhibition fade away. He was happy, and he was safe. Camille made him feel so at peace, and he loved her so much for it. She had been there for him, when he couldn’t remember his own name, when he felt as though the bloodlust would drown him.

His life had been _before_ and _Camille_.

And now? Dancing in the club, high and pleased because Camille was pleased - he didn’t want it to be any different.

A body knocked into him, shocking him from his thoughts. Alex reached out to stable them, holding onto the thin arms of a woman as she apologised. A sweet scent of mundane, sugar and floral drenched her and his fangs slid down. 

Alex felt the urge, and listened to his body. The woman was pretty, with blond hair and green eyes. He liked her eyes, they were almost golden in the blue light of the nightclub and they glimmered. He wanted them to slit, like a cat’s but it was good enough. Besides, he didn’t desire her that way.

Her lips pursed open and then the slow, heady scent of lust drenched her as she looked him over with a slow drag. Alex smirked and moved to rub her shoulders, thumbing caressing the edge where it met her neck.

It was a lovely neck. Tanned, unblemished and healthy.

“You’re beautiful.” He said, and it was true.

The woman smiled and fluttered her eyelashes.

“Thank you.” She giggled. “What’s your name, handsome?”

Alex smoothed his hands down her waist. “Alex Belcourt. But you can call me whatever you want, beautiful.”

Her eyes shone with desire, her blood pumping. “Angelica.”

He hummed and reached to smooth his thumb over her lips.

“Like Angel? I should have expected it.”

Angelica kissed his thumb, the tack of her lipstick rubbery against his skin. “Do you want to get out of here?”

A pleased, lazy smile ticked Alec’s lips and he nodded, holding her hand to meander her through the humans. The thud of her blood against his palm was like a promise. He glanced back to check on Camille, to find her clinging to the man, her breasts pressed against his chest as they kissed.

Alex shook his head in amusement and allowed Angelica out of the club with a gesture. He immediately took her down the street, the road familiar to him until it was quiet enough. 

Angelica was watching him with curious eyes as he pressed her against a brick wall and pulled his face close. He let his vampire instincts overtake, the powerful tug of his encanto pushing through the barrier of his mind. She was transfixed, prime for the taking.

“Stay still, don’t make a noise.” Alex drawled. “You’ll enjoy this.”

She nodded dumbly and he pushed her hair off her shoulder, revealing the pretty neck. He grinned, fangs flashing pushed into the creamy skin just above her jugular vein and pressed through the muscle.

Sweet, sweet warmth coated his tongue and he groaned, slamming her head against the wall harder. He gulped and gulped, swallowing the tang with greedy slurps. His mind was one thing, hunger. He wanted to just take.

Alex felt the heartbeat beneath him fade. It’s thunder became weaker as he convulsed against her neck, feeling stronger, powerful. He had the strength to do this. He, Alex Belcourt, was better than this mundane.

As that heart took its final beat, Alex pulled back with a moan. 

Watching Angelica slump to the floor, her body twisting into itself as it crumbled - something inside him broke. There was blood _everywhere_ , against the golden tan of her skin, down her blue, silky dress. It coated his mouth, his chin, his face. A devastation pulled him as he let out a cry and pulled her body into him like a hug, hands staring with the evidence of his greed.

“No, no, no.” He cried against her strawberry flavoured hair. “What have I done? _No._ ”

She didn’t respond. She was dead.

Alex was a monster. _He was. He was._

“I’m so sorry.” He whispered, laying her gently on the dirty floor, like a princess just asleep. 

There was a sharp pain in his head, and Alex winced as he rubbed at his hair. He couldn’t see anything beyond the life he had taken, just laying there. She had been alive. She had a whole life ahead of her.

He knew this was wrong. And he ached as he sobbed with his bloody hands on his face. _Monster. Freak._

_But Camille said this was normal?_

This was just the food chain.

“I’m sorry.” He said again.

  
—

  
Alex was hysterical as he ran to his apartment he shared with Camille. His hands were shaking and he wanted to vomit everything he drunk so bad. But then Angelica’s life would have been taken for no purpose, and she didn’t deserve that. He didn’t want to be that person.

“Camille.” He called, chocking. “Camille, please.”

The woman strolled out of the bedroom with a nasty glare. She was naked and glowing in the moonlight, she looked like a wraith. A beautiful, powerful wraith.

“What is it?” She snarled, her dark hair cascading down her chest. “I was busy.”

He groaned as he felt a dribble of blood slip into his mouth. It would be so easy to just give in. But it was wrong. It was so wrong. But Camille would make it better, _wouldn’t she?_ She loved him.

“I killed her.” He moaned and showed her his drenched palms. “She’s dead.”

A flick of an eyebrow. “And?”

“And I’m a monster!” He took a stumbling step toward her. “I’m a freak. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Camille’s face darkened and then she was scowling. It scared him, in a way. He didn’t like that look. Alec loved how pretty she looked with secretive smirks and wide grins. She looked downright terrifying with the cold glare.

“Allie.” She said carefully, walking fast toward him. “It’s natural. We kill. You enjoy it.”

He shook his head violently. “No, no. I don’t. It’s wrong.”

She was close now. She reached out an took his neck in her palm and he gasped when she pressed, hard. If he breathed, it would of hurt. But the pressure only reminded him of what he was - a monster. Alex was dead, and he was a murderer.

“Calm down, now.” She ordered, squeezing and squeezing. “Calm.”

He couldn’t. He could see Angelica’s blissed out face, then the blank nothingness. He would carry her death inside his mind until the day he finally passed on. It was his fault, he wasn’t strong enough. He wasn’t like Camille.

“I can’t.”

She snarled, lowly and animalistically. 

Then she pushed him down till he was kneeling at her feet, head pushed up so he stared at her dark eyes - like pools of oblivion. They sacred him. She scared him. But that was impossible. Camille was his friend, his only one. She was everything to him, at least from what he could remember.

“I’m going to fix you, sweetie.” Camille promised. “You were almost so perfect.”

“Help me, Camille.” Alex begged as her hand stroked his hair, pulling at the curls.

She nodded, abruptly and blunt and titled his head to the side. He sighed and went with the movement. He could still hear the soft moans of Angelica, her warm palms. And now she was lying in a rotting alleyway, forgotten and dead.

There was a large whack, a sickening crunch and Alex slumped to the floor as Camille knocked him out with her fist. It hurt for a second but then he slipped into a welcomed oblivion and saw darkness again.

  
—

  
When he woke up, he registered the cold concrete floor and the stench of old rot. Alex struggled and the rattling the chains against his wrists which were suspended in the air made his stomach coil.

_Where was Camille?_

“Camille?” He asked the darkness. He couldn’t see much, even with his improved eyesight. There was only a never ending emptiness. 

“Camille?”

An unnatural roll of fear rocked through him. His throat burned, like sharp sandpaper had been rubbed across it. As he shuffled, he noticed he was naked and cold beyond the natural chill of his undead body.

A single tear trickled free. Alex wasn’t sure how long he had been here for, but the way his arms burned from the suspension suggested days. _Why would Camille do this? He was sure she loved him like he loved her? They were friends, right?_

He choked as another tear broke free and slithered down his cheek. 

“Camille?” He tried to call again.

Something crawled across his ankle, and he jumped to shake it off. There was lingering smell of something dead in the room, and he shivered from revulsion. Alex tried to pull at the chains that had tied him up but they were strong, and they hurt. He would almost say they stung, like scorching flesh.

“You’re awake, good.” A voice echoed in the darkness.

“Camille?” He said desperately. “What’s going on? Why am I here?”

He felt a cold hand rub at his ankle, right over the bit of a restraint. There was the sharp press of her nails and the softness of her palm. He resisted the urge to sob. _Why was she doing this? He hadn’t done anything wrong, had he?_

“Listen to me Alex.” She demanded, and though Alex couldn’t see her, he knew the cold gaze like oblivion was permanently implemented into his head. “You enjoy killing. You’re a vampire, it’s fun.”

Alex shook his head. “No it’s wrong.”

“It’s not wrong. It’s right. You love it.”

“No.”

She snarled. “Yes.”

Alex chocked out an unsteady breath and tugged at the chains, the clanking sound grating in his ears. When he closed his eyes, he saw cat’s eyes, a wide smile and large hands that drifted over his body.

“Magnnn..s.” He moaned and tried not to sob.

_Who was he? Who was Magnus?_

He yanked harder. “Magnus. Magnus. Magnus.”

He wanted Magnus. He wanted him like Alex had never wanted someone before. Every cell in his body yearned and pleaded.

Camille leapt at him, pushing her hand over his neck and gripping it tight. It wouldn’t kill him, but it hurt. She squeezed, pulling her nimble fingers tighter, letting him chocked out breaths as he chanted Magnus again and again.

“You don’t know a Magnus.” She said bluntly.

He coughed violently against the grip. “I do, I know I do. He’s my Magnus.”

“No.” She said, and he felt the cold wash of her breath over him. “You don’t.”

Then her palm collided with his head, smashing it against the hard wall and he fell down in a slump. He drifted off to the sound of Alexander and a voice like velvet, like heaven.

_Magnus._

  
—

  
There was darkness again. And there was that looming silence, almost tangible as though it could reach out and grab at him with shadowed hands. His throat burned as a throb like bruises were pressed into his skin.

Alex scowled and pulled at the chains. He sucked in a breath of air and his stomach twisted uncomfortably. He was so, so hungry. When was the last time he had drunk?

“Angelica.” He whispered.

“Oh good, you’re awake.” Camille said, and her voice was quiet as though there was considerable distance between them.

_Where were they? Why was Camille doing this? Didn’t she love him?_

“Why?” Alex said sadly and slumped into the wall, ignoring how his body squirmed to be satisfied.

He hurt the clink of heels against the floor. “You were so nearly perfect, Allie. And then you mess it all up again. I was so disappointed in you, do you enjoy disappointing me?”

He hated it. Alex heaved a wet breath.

“No, I’m sorry.” He admitted regretfully.

He knew Camille would be smiling now. He knew her, after all. He didn’t remember his life before her, but she had saved him, had kept him living. Sometimes she scared him, like now. But Camille had been there when no one else had.

_He had no one else._

“I got you a present.” She cooed and there was a wet slapping sound just beyond his reach. The scent of tantalising sweetness filled his nose, his body, his mind. It was blood and he was so hungry. He needed it so badly.

Alex tried reaching for it, tried to fight the burns on his wrists and feet. “Please.” 

“Do you regret it?” Camille asked, undeterred.

Alex flinched as he remembered the green eyes, golden in the darkness. She had trusted him, and he had killed her. _How was he not a monster?_

“Do you regret it, Alex?” Camille pressed, her heel grating into the floor. “It’s a simple question, sweetie.”

“I regret it.” Alex miserably said and dropped his hands as much as he could, his muscles burning from being suspended in the air.

“Then no blood for you.” She said and he heard walk away, slipping into the oblivion.

“Please don’t leave me here.” He cried out.

There was no reply.

Alex sniffed and cried out as his body yearned to break free and take. But it was useless. He was stuck. _Why had Camille done this? Did she not love him?_

“I’m sorry.” He moaned.

  
—

  
An imaginary clock ticked in his head. Days, maybe weeks passed. And everyday Camille visited with one question; _do you regret it?_

His fangs were persistent now. They were there, and he couldn’t get rid of them. Alex barely felt human, it was as though an animal had overtaken him, swallowed his consciousness whole. He snarled and growled, thrashing against the abuse to his body. His skin had torn days ago. Blood had long since dried as it dripped down his raised arms.

_Did he regret it?_

The answer was simple, no. Because he was so hungry now and it was her fault. Camille was right. He was made to kill. That was just the natural order. Humans were made to be fed on, and nothing more. Camille was just helping to realise it. She hadn’t want to hurt him, not anymore.

She came up to him again today. He could scent her musky perfume from that designer brand she loved. She was drenched in it, so much so that he could imagine it billowing around her like a cloud. But it was Camille’s scent. His Camille.

“Do you regret it?” She asked again, her voice dull, lifeless.

Alex smiled through his fangs. “No. I killed her because I was hungry.”

He knew she grinned back. That’s how well he knew her. He could just feel her smile, her moods. And he didn’t want to disappoint her again.

“Well done, sweetie.” She cooed and slithered up his body, her dress silky against his naked form. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you.” He slurred, and he took greedy gulp fulls of her smell to tether him to sanity.

She pressed something cold against his lips, the bottle cool and smooth.

“Drink this up and I’ll feed you and make you better.”

Alex nodded slowly and opened his mouth, lazily smiling as she poured a scalding, sap like liquid down his throat. It burnt like it was claiming him, and then there was a sense of peace and understanding in him. A tranquility he had missed.

“There, there, Allie. All good.” She mumbled against his neck, her face buried into his shoulder. “I’ve made you perfect.”

Alex hummed and curled inwards and around her, inhaling her sweet shampoo as his nose pressed into her hair.

His Camille. She loved him. He loved her. 

He would always want to please her.

There was a press of a cold hand on his thigh. “I’m going to release you now.”

She was going to release him.

Alex sniffed. He was going to be full soon. “Thank you, Camille.”

For the first time in weeks, Alex felt good. He felt _whole._

And it was because of Camille.

  
—

  
Alex heard the base of the nightclub behind him. He huffed and leant against the wall, puffing a cigarette as he watched the street of Paris. Life was good. 

Camille wanted to go to some Downworld party. Alex was slowly appreciating the pleasures that came from this life with her. They always moved, a turbulent force that stopped for no one and was tethered to no singular place.

But there was that tiny hole in him. Sometimes he wondered what his life was before Camille. He wondered whether he had loved, and if he had been loved before. Ignoring the tiny mistake with a certain warlock, of course. He’d like that, Alex thought. A single person for him. A soulmate.

He scoffed and took another inhale of his cigarette, puffing the smoke through his nose. He knew better than to have those thoughts. Camille and him, that’s the way it had always been. It’s the way it’ll always be. He had her, and he loved her. She was enough.

She had told him of his old life, once. She had rescued him from hell. That’s just the way Alex’s Camille was - she was his lifeboat, his guardian angel. Sure, she was harsh and cold at times. And many might find how she loved strange. But that was just her. And Alex understood.

They were two birds made from the same stone. Two night dwellers trying to fit in a world that deemed them predators.

He could still remember the day she told him of his past.

_“So who was I?” Alex asked as he leant his head against her shoulder, as they sat on the beach side by side._

_She hummed and stared at the sea, her legs flared wide and unashamed._

_“You were a leader, of sorts.” Camille drawled, her nail scratching the sand. “And everyone around you used you. Even your family. Alex take this. Alex do this for me. Alex I need help. Alex, Alex, Alex.”_

_He frowned. “I did that?”_

_“You did.” Camille said. “You loved them, and they just took from you. That’s the sort of people they were. They abused you.”_

_“Oh.” Alex whispered._

_She made a cooing sound and patted his knee in comfort. “Then you fell in a love and he hurt you.”_

_Alex shuffled and looked at her, narrowing his eyes. “I was in love?”_

_She smiled in her Camille way - wide, teeth flashing and eyes glinting with mischief. Alex felt a flood of affection for her, and everything she had done. It seemed she had saved him from a life of misery._

_“Tell me.” He said calmly, scrunching his fist into the sand._

_“He’s a warlock. And he used your love and when you were at your weakest, he kicked you down and ruined you. You know you were a Shadowhunter, right?”_

_Alex nodded glumly. His gaze was snagged on the red burns of old runes, the marks never fading but tattooed into his skin like a harsh reminder. He couldn’t believe he was one of those once. Those monsters who killed for their bigotry. It made his blood boil._

_“You were so sad, Allie. Everyone was using you, demanding things from you and then he abandoned you when everything went to shit.”_

_Alex almost sobbed. So he had no one? No one truly cared?_

_“And you saved me?” Alex asked with a whisper, staring at Camille with a desperation._

_She nodded and reached out to curl a hand over his cheek. Camille wasn’t one for physical affection, so when she gave it to him, it made him feel special. Right now, his world felt anchored to her and her alone._

_“I did.” She promised. “I saved you, didn’t I?”_

_She saved him._

_Alex purred. “You saved me.”_

_Camille’s smile widened in pleasure. And Alex sat there, looking at his friend under moonlight - glowing and shining. She was so perfect and she had chosen him, and saved him when no one else wanted him._

_“What’s his name?” Alex asked, and she dropped her hand._

_Camille flared her nose in disgust. “Magnus Bane. But you hate him. You hate him, don’t you, sweetie?”_

_He hated Magnus Bane._

_“Yes.” He stated and it felt like the truth. “I hate him.”_

Alex scowled and dropped his cigarette on the floor, smushing it beneath his boot. If he was on a low day, he might have imagined what Magnus looked like. Alex thought he was pathetic to think that way. Magnus Bane has hurt him, used him. He was no better than those Shadowhunters.

Alex Belcourt knew two things clearly.

One; Camille was his best friend, and she had never lied to him.

Two; Alex hated Magnus Bane and what he represented.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. This was hard to write. Camille is an ass but there’s more to her than meets the eye. And her and Alec’s relationship is far from over.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Kudos and comments are always welcomed! ❤️

**Author's Note:**

> This is about a 6 chaptered fic. Malec is present, but many chapters are based around the relationship between Camille and Alec.
> 
> Also, there will be many character deaths, including major characters due to how many years it is told across.
> 
> This is a prologue, sort of. I hope you like :)


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